TIGER IS DUPED, BUT IF SCHEFFLER WINS A MAJOR, HE CELEBRATES FOR ONLY “TWO MINUTES”
That was his quote at the British Open, where the world’s premier player said golf fulfillment can’t “find the deepest places of your heart,” which means the sport is in its rightful, honorable place
He is not Tiger Woods, who turned golf into savage artistry and will continue to play at 50 and 60. Scottie Scheffler does not relate to the sadism or any heartless way of trying to overtake Jack Nicklaus, as he commented this week. You won’t see him swinging if an SUV wreck almost kills him. You won’t see him putting if he ignores countless surgeries. You won’t see him chase balls and wait for another to drop in the hole, before screaming.
“A majestic shot,” Tiger once said, explaining his modus operandi.
Scheffler is the finest player since Woods, with apologies to Rory McIlroy and Brooks Koepka. Let’s abandon the business of making the ritual comparisons. If all courses and clubs vanished tomorrow, he would be a very happy gentleman. He does not sit at home In Texas and wonder how many more majors he’ll add to his two at the Masters and one at the PGA Championship. He does not care that he has won 16 tournaments and won Player of the Year awards three times.
What life brings us is the antithesis of what we’ve smothered for almost 30 years — from his debut, to his fury, to his drift into bimbo-brigade misery, to his wondrous 15th major at Augusta National. Woods is a billionaire with growing kids and a bustling relationship with Vanessa Trump, ex-wife of Donald Jr. He tried to promote the game and himself to people, young and old. If anyone wants to link Scheffler to Woods, please read his remarks at Royal Portrush, in Northern Ireland, where he said golf doesn’t enrich his heart. It’s somewhere in his system, but it’s nowhere close to the innermost part of his being.
“I’m not out here to inspire someone to be the best player in the world because what’s the point? This is not a fulfilling life. It’s fulfilling from the sense of accomplishment, but it’s not fulfilling from a sense of the deepest places of your heart,” Scheffler said.
He wants to win, sure. But he has the sport in its rightful and honorable place, even if he earns fewer majors and only plays into his late 30s. It might shock you to know how long he celebrates a colossal victory. “That's something I wrestle with on a daily basis. It's like showing up at the Masters every year; it's like why do I want to win this golf tournament so badly? Why do I want to win the Open Championship so badly? I don't know because, if I win, it's going to be awesome for two minutes,” he said.
Two minutes. Woods is thinking, oh, decades. “You win it, you celebrate, get to hug my family, my sister's there, it's such an amazing moment. Then it's like, OK, what are we going to eat for dinner?” Scheffler said. “Life goes on. It feels like you work your whole life to celebrate winning a tournament for like a few minutes. It only lasts a few minutes.”
He has accomplished everything he wants in life. He married Meredith, a girl he met in high school. They have a little boy, Bennett. He is the world’s best player — no one else is in the vicinity, including McIlroy, who is in his native land this week and is considered only the No. 2 bet. The world is a nice place when an emerging sports legend doesn’t want to gamble and chase women. In Scheffler’s world, he is still shaken up by his arrest last year in Louisville, where charges were dropped when he tried to drive a car into Valhalla Golf Club. He still can’t believe a broken wine glass slashed his palm at Christmas, when he was preparing ravioli. Those are his scandals. He probably won’t have another.
Nothing is wrong with a master who likely will win when he putts well. Better him than Wyndham Clark, the 2023 U.S. Open winner, who was banned from Oakmont Country Club after destroying a clubhouse locker. Who is eyeballing life? Who isn’t? “I love the challenge. I love being able to play this game for a living. But does it fill the deepest wants and desires of my heart? Absolutely not,” Scheffler said. “There’s a lot of people who make it to what they thought would fulfill them in life, and you get there — you get to No. 1 in the world — and they’re like, ‘What’s the point?’ I really do believe that because, what is the point?”
What is the point? Ask McIlroy, who would love to win his sixth major and do an Irish jig. What is the point? Jon Rahm needs to win. What is the point? J.J. Spaun would love to go double-dip on his U.S. Open triumph. Scheffler has no point.
He practices with diligence. If he works hard, he wants to succeed. “We work so hard for such little moments. I'm kind of sicko. I love getting to practice, I love getting to live out my dreams. But at the end of the day, sometimes I just don't understand the point,” he said. “If I come in second this week or if I finish dead last, no matter what happens, we're always on to the next week. That's one of the beautiful things about golf, and it's also one of the frustrating things, because you can have such great accomplishments, but the show goes on. That's just how it is.”
We can play therapist and assume he’s simply shutting down pressure. That isn’t the case. Justin Rose is 44. He has won one major. He understands.
“Yeah, for sure I’ve been in that similar situation in terms of getting to world No. 1. It’s something you strive and strive and strive and strive for, and you achieve it and you’re like, oh, okay, it’s not necessarily what you imagine it to be, but the work and the journey to get there is the thrill. That’s the exciting part,” Rose said.
“I think, to this day, what keeps me going is really just kind of being better tomorrow as a person and as a golfer than I am today — and that’s enough. Obviously, you want it to manifest into tournament wins and ticking off your goals and your dreams, but really the journey and the process of getting there is where you have to try to find the enjoyment. It’s very relatable for sure.”
Scheffler is creating lessons for his young son. Why not? Have a grip. Forget the media, the agents, the endorsement people. Play. Win, lose, go home. “I’d get a bit headless at times when I was growing up, especially when I was young, and I see it in my son now. He’s 14 months old,” he said. “And I’m like, ‘This poor kid’s got my personality.’ It’s tough. I had a high level of frustration growing up. I still do today, but I’m better at masking it. Now I do a better job of holding it in.”
Having expressed himself, from somewhere deep in his mind and soul, an earnest man will take control Thursday and try to win No. 4. If he does, we’ll honor him. He will smile.
For two minutes.
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Jay Mariotti, called “without question the most impacting Chicago sportswriter of the past quarter-century,’’ writes general sports columns for Substack while appearing on some of the 1,678,498 podcasts and shows in production today. He is an accomplished columnist, TV panelist and talk/podcast host. Living in Los Angeles, he gravitated by osmosis to film projects.